


Solute

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 15:33:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4025278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feren returning without Legolas is a definite no-no.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solute

**Author's Note:**

  * For [memorywolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/memorywolf/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for petalsofelrondir’s “feren/thranduil fic, feren comes back without legolas and thranduil decides to punish him. turned on and eager!feren and dirty!thranduil” request on [my tumblr ](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He’s come back empty handed. 

Thranduil’s not entirely sure he expected otherwise. Whenever he sends his messengers out, he intends for them to succeed, but his son is stubborn and foolhardy and still swayed by the hormonal clutches of youth. No doubt Legolas thinks that playing banishment alongside Tauriel will win her heart, when in fact it’s very clear that he’s never been in that race at all. She’s chosen a dwarf and the neglect of her king’s orders, and for that, Thranduil’s dismissal, but his own son he could never truly release. 

Yet Feren has returned alone with no notion of when Legolas will follow. He reports this news on the raised dais below Thranduil’s throne, perched stiffly in the middle of the circle. Thranduil paces idly around him. They’re alone, as Thranduil likes to be when he’s brought ill news. His temper isn’t always pleasant, and this disappointment is for Feren alone. 

As Thranduil loops around to Feren’s front, he drawls quietly, “How do you think you should be punished for this, Feren?”

Feren’s posture turns ever more rigid. He knows that he’s failed, and the self-deprecation is heavy on his face. But there’s still a flicker of light in his eyes when he breathes semi-hopefully, “I should be spanked, my lord.”

Thranduil snorts. Feren winces at the clear rejection. Thranduil enjoys such games for minor displeasures, but for this... “No, you will enjoy that too much.”

Feren hesitates. His eyes are downcast: respectfully lowered. He seems to think, then twists into a shallow grimace and suggests, “I could be whipped.”

Frowning, Thranduil responds, “You will enjoy that too little.” He’s a fierce king, but never cruel. 

For a few moments, the two of them are silent. Feren seems to be thinking, and Thranduil is considering his options—how to teach this pretty creature a lesson without permanently changing the nature of their relationship, or placing too much blame on his shoulders. Legolas will face a greater punishment when he does return, though it’ll be of an entirely different nature.

Finally, Thranduil takes a step inwards, coming up against Feren’s back. Feren has a sharp intake of breath, his chin lifting, while Thranduil hooks over his shoulder and hisses into his pointed ear, “You are always too eager for punishment, Feren. Perhaps that is why you failed.” Indeed, Feren’s body has arched suddenly into its master’s touch, and pink has come to Feren’s cheek. 

Husky, Feren murmurs, “I apologize.” He sounds sincere, but that changes nothing. He’s clearly deriving pleasure from this and will however Thranduil touches him. 

So Thranduil, for once, won’t touch him at all. Thranduil leisurely explains, “When you leave here, you will bring me an elf from your guards.” 

Looking suddenly confused, Feren nonetheless utters, “Yes, my lord.”

Thranduil loops an arm around his body. A hand splays over Feren’s chest, smoothing wantonly across his breast, forcing Feren to gasp and toss his head back, lips open and trembling. Thranduil brings his mouth so close to Feren’s ear that his tongue almost touches the pale flesh, and he purrs, “Every night until the next full moon, I will enjoy this elf’s body. From across my chambers, you will watch.” Feren’s eyes grow wider, and Thranduil finds himself smirking as he continues, “But you will not be touched. You will not touch yourself. You will not come. You will only watch others enjoy what you could have had, were you a better servant.”

Thranduil’s hand slips away, but the rest of his body remains flush against Feren’s back, waiting on a response. After a moment, Feren licks his lips and murmurs hollowly, “I think I would prefer to be whipped.”

Thranduil chuckles. But he doesn’t relent. He grabs a chunk of Feren’s chestnut hair, jerks his head back, and hisses, “Go now and choose.” As soon as Thranduil lets go, Feren gathers himself and turns, hurrying off down the path. His head bows, his hair blowing back with the wind of his steps. He looks as though he’s practically fleeing, before he longs for more than he can have. For a time, anyway.

It doesn’t matter which elf Feren chooses. Thranduil will likely enjoy any of his subjects, although his usual bed-warmer will be a regrettable loss. Feren is already well trained to his needs and always eager for him, though in this case, that was Feren’s downfall.

Thranduil lazily returns to his throne, pondering what to do about his son.


End file.
